


Stories in inkt.

by Readingfanfics



Series: Prompts [65]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Tattoos, a bit of dirty talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 19:18:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15647253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Readingfanfics/pseuds/Readingfanfics
Summary: “You have tattoos.”Sherlock knows a lot about Greg Lestrade but he doesn't know everything. When he learns something new about the man it changes everything between them.





	Stories in inkt.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UrbanHymnal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UrbanHymnal/gifts).



> The inspiration for this ficlet came from a Greg Lestrade fanart that my friend Nala reblogged on her Tumblr. Here is the link to the original piece. http://urbanhymnal.tumblr.com/post/75655129206/have-some-lestrade-tattoolock-tattoos-include

**\-- Stories in inkt.--**

“Lestrade, we have to go now! Elliot Jackson isn't going to stay put for long and we need to-”

Greg turns around, shirt half open when Sherlock stops speaking, the door falling closed behind him from the force the man used when storming in.

“Can you just give me a few seconds, Sherlock? The team has him under surveillance. I'm sure he won't disappear in the next few minutes.”

“I. Y-yes, of course, I'll just-”

“Don't be silly.” Greg answers, pulling off the shirt he's been wearing and stuffing it into a bag. He's been up since 4 this morning, running after Sherlock, barking orders, eating something on the go and his shirt feels like sandpaper on his skin.

“Sit down, Sherlock. I'll only be a few seconds and then we can go meet the team. I smell like a dead cat, I don't know how you do it really.” Greg smiles, pulling out a fresh shirt before gesturing to Sherlock. Even on hot days, the man looks flawless, no matter how much running around he's done. He tilts his head to the side as he sees the weird expression on the man's face, holding the shirt in front of him.

“Sherlock? Everything alright?”

“Y-yes, of course.” Sherlock stutters, pulling off his coat before sitting down on the offered chair. The man's cheeks are a light pink as they look at Greg and he quickly puts on his shirt, the silence suddenly making him very aware that he's standing here half-naked in front of the most observant man in the world.

“Have we gotten more news about Jackson's history? Did Sally find a money trail?”

“You have tattoos.”

Sherlock squints his eyes when he looks up at Greg and Greg nods his head, closing the last remaining buttons on his shirt and feeling a little more human for doing so. It still doesn't beat a shower, with warm water and soap, but it's better than nothing.

“Yes. Had my first one at 18, love for the team and all that….” Greg smiles, his skin tingling as he sits down, noticing how Sherlock is still staring at him with that intense focus Greg loves. Being at the center of Sherlock's attention can be quite addictive and there was a time, at the beginning of their friendship, that Greg did some extra effort to earn that attention. Then he realized how foolish it made him look.

“You have tattoos,” Sherlock says again, surprise in his voice and that makes Greg raise an eyebrow, leaning back in his desk chair.

“Didn't you know already?”

“No, I-”

“You didn't know?” Now it's his turn to sound surprised as Sherlock's cheeks go a shade darker, blinking his lashes fast, eyes going over Greg's body. “Weird, I thought you knew everything about everyone.”

“It doesn't work like that. I. Well, sometimes I-” Sherlock stops, the color on his cheeks intensified in those last few seconds and Greg leans forward, placing his arms on his desk, a spark of excitement making it's way through his body as he sees the tiny pout beginning on Sherlock's mouth.

“The great Sherlock Holmes speechless. Now there’s a first. You honestly didn't know?”

Greg smiles when Sherlock grumbles something in response, not meeting his gaze anymore.

“Here,” Greg gets up, stepping away from his desk and close to Sherlock, unbuttoning his shirt before turning to show his back at the man. “Have a look. I know it will otherwise just drive you crazy.”

Greg holds his breath as Sherlock gets up, his eyes going over Greg's skin with concentration and curiosity. He can't imagine what the man must be thinking, seeing the fox on his side, the Arsenal shield on his shoulder, the Yard emblem between his shoulder blades. He's always careful when he's working to not have any ink shown, not that he's ashamed of them, every one of his tattoos has meaning, but it's not something he shares easily.

“S-sorry,” Sherlock whispers, pulling his fingers back when Greg flinches.

“It's fine. Just didn't expect it.” Greg answers, feeling Sherlock's fingertips trace the scars on his back gently, going the whole length of it before pulling back.

“Motorcycle accident when I was 18. Was in a coma for 3 days.” Greg answers Sherlock's unspoken question when he turns to face the man, putting his shirt back on.

“Is that why you got them?”

“No,” Greg answers, leaning against his desk while Sherlock stands in front of him. It doesn't feel as awkward as he'd been afraid of.

“I've always found tattoos beautiful, the meaning behind them. It's not just for show, or for looking cool. To me it's about memories, things I want to remember for the rest of my life.”

“You want to remember Arsenal for the rest of your life?” Sherlock pulls a face and Greg smiles, touching his shoulder where the tattoo sits.

“Football gave me direction in life, it kept me out of prison, gave me friends. I've not always been this dull and mediocre, Sherlock. I know that's hard to believe, but-”

“You're not mediocre!” Sherlock cuts him off, his eyes shining with something Greg can't place and he shrugs a shoulder, not sure what to say.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you.” Sherlock whispers face a nice red color and Greg reaches out a hand to stroke away a stray curl.

“It's fine, Sherlock. I know you don't mean it like that.” Greg smiles, somehow not pulling his hand away but stroking Sherlock's flushed cheek with his thumb, leaning closer when the man's eyes fall closed.

“How can you be so beautiful?”

“I'm not beautiful.” Sherlock whispers and Greg wants to kick himself for saying that out loud, waiting for the anger when Sherlock opens his eyes and steps back. He's heard the rumors, the venomous comments about the real reason Sherlock is here. He knows how sensitive the man is about it, proving himself every single day to show the team and the rest of the Yard that he's capable and not just some pretty face.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-” Greg stumbles, pulling his hand back and now Sherlock's eyes fly open, a mix of emotions in them as Greg tries to step back and create some space.

“No, you shouldn't,” Sherlock responds, stepping closer whenever Greg takes a step back, a small and hopeful smile forming as he reaches out a hand and places it on Greg's arm.

“But I'm glad you did.”

“Sherlock-”

“I know,” Sherlock whispers, squeezing Greg's arm as he leans closer and Greg's heart stops when he feels the warmth of Sherlock's body against his own.

“I know you'd never take advantage of me. But I'm telling you that you can if you want to.” Greg can barely suppress a moan when Sherlock meets his eyes, licking his lips before running his other hand through Greg's hair and then cupping his cheek.

“I don't do flings, Sherlock.”

“Me neither.” Sherlock's breathe is warm against his skin as he answers, only inches of space keeping them apart. His heart is beating inside his chest, hands starting to sweat as Sherlock looks at him, a knowing look in his eyes. He shouldn't do this, they work together for God's sake! This will change everything and he can't even begin to imagine in what ways.

“Stop thinking.”

“Sherl-”

But then Sherlock's lips are on his, soft and inviting and he wraps his arms around the man's waist, bringing them close together, hearing the blissful sigh as they melt against each other. The rest of the world is forgotten as Greg explores Sherlock's lips, moaning when they trace his Cupid's bow, breaking up the kiss with a little bite to the man's lower lip. Seeing the dazed expression on the man's face makes Greg want to purr in pleasure, pressing himself close to the man, hearing the sharp intake of breath as Greg's beginning erection touches Sherlock's leg.

“Hmm, I want to take you home and spread you out in my bed.” Greg grumbles, placing a kiss on Sherlock's cheek and squeezing the man's arse.

“Oh!”

“You'd like that wouldn't you, Sunshine? Me, exploring your gorgeous body for hours, driving you wild with my mouth and tongue?”

“G-Greg,” Sherlock pants, blinking his eyes rapidly, the red on his cheeks deepening as Greg whispers in the man's ear, playing with some of his curls.

“Hmm, I bet you make the most amazing sounds in bed. Moaning and purring my name as I take you, letting the neighbors hear just how crazy you make me. How you're going to shutter when you come on your chest. How you'll scream when I lick it up, every single drop.”

Greg smirks when Sherlock moans loudly, pressing himself against the man, gently rocking himself on Greg's leg.

“Yeah, just like that, Sunshine.” Greg's hand wanders to Sherlock's front, palming the man's cock and Sherlock bites his lip, trapping the sounds inside him as he looks at Greg with desire and frustration.

“You're going to look so beautiful when I'm done with you.”

“Greg, please.”

Greg kisses him again, wanting to pick the man up and fuck him against his office door, pounding into him until he screams out in pleasure. He digs his nails into Sherlock's skin, kissing and licking the man's neck to where he can reach and he curses when Sherlock's hand rubs over his cock.

“Tease.”

“You started.” Sherlock whispers, eyes wide, face flushed and Greg wants to throw caution out of the window and devour him right then and there. Sherlock looks beautiful, delicious enough to eat and he's just about ready to get lost in the moment when the sound of his phone crushes through the air, snapping him back to attention.

“Fuck!” Greg curses, snatching the phone from his desk, snapping to the person on the other side of the line. Sherlock is still looking dazed, licking his lips like he wants to savor Greg's taste and Greg turns his back on the man, needing to focus and not throw his phone out the window to continue what they started.

“And you saw him leave the house with the bag? Are you sure? Okay, we'll be there.”

“Elliot Jackson?”

“Yeah, he's on the move.”

“Okay,” Sherlock nods, trying to act professional but Greg can see the disappointment in his eyes as they look at each other. He steps forward, cupping the man's cheeks, rubbing their noses together before placing a quick peck on his beginning pout.

“Anticipations makes it that much better, Sunshine. You won't be disappointed.” He runs his hand down Sherlock's back, grabbing his arse one more time and Sherlock smiles, bringing their lips close together.

“You promise?”

“I promise.” Greg smirks, kissing Sherlock hard and demanding before pulling back and grabbing his coat. “But first, we have work to do.”

The End.

 


End file.
